


Feast for the Eyes

by astudyinfic



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: A love 6000 years in the making, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Not Britpicked, Porn with Feelings, Smut, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 18:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19978489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: They say that eyes are the windows to the soul.Aziraphale wished that Crowley would stop hiding his away.





	Feast for the Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [ bonibaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru) for the betaing and [FaceofMer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer) for the read through.

Crowley hid his eyes most of the time. 

Not at first. When the first humans walked the Earth, they knew of the other beings that resided there alongside them. They thought nothing of Aziraphale’s wings or Crowley’s eyes. No one passed judgment on them for their apparent holiness or damnation. That was just the way things were. For almost four thousand years, every time Aziraphale saw Crowley, he looked directly into those golden eyes he had adored since they stood atop the wall together.

Then, in Rome when Aziraphale invited Crowley to join him at Patronus’s new restaurant, it took him a moment to realize he was looking at Crowley’s eyes through a thick, dark glass. And less than a moment after that to realize that he hated the extra division between them. “My dear,” Aziraphale asked carefully as they walked down the crowded streets to have lunch. “Why are you covering your eyes?”

“Why do you keep your wings hidden, angel? You and I both know that no matter how enlightened the humans think they are now, their minds are closed to so much more. If they saw either of us as we used to be, they would do their best to kill us. They despise the _different_.” Aziraphale nearly recoiled from the malice in that last, hissed word but it was the resignation in Crowley’s voice that broke Aziraphale’s heart. Why should they have to hide? Why couldn’t the humans accept them as they were?

They spent the rest of that particular evening somewhere alone, where Aziraphale hoped he could watch the molten gold of Crowley’s eyes shift and change in the flickering candlelight in the privacy of their own room. But when he pulled the glasses from Crowley’s eyes, the demon averted his gaze, hiding even from Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t think he understood true heartbreak until that moment until he realized his friend, lover, and closest confidante was now hiding a part of himself away, even from him.

After a while, Aziraphale grew used to the sight of Crowley’s ever-evolving eyewear. He was even fond of some of them. (The glasses from the Globe theatre featured in his dreams on the rare occasion he slept. Particularly the surprised look in Crowley’s eyes when Aziraphale plucked them off his face to kiss him soundly the moment they were alone after they left the theatre before Aziraphale headed north to Edinburgh. It had been the first time they’d locked eyes since Golgotha and it lasted only a moment but it was a moment Aziraphale cherished.) 

Even though he understood the reason for them, Aziraphale resented them. Because as the saying went, the eyes were the window to the soul. Despite being a demon, Crowley had the most beautiful soul Aziraphale had ever known. He wanted to be able to see it more. He wanted to bask in the glow of those eyes when they were alight with passion, soft from too much alcohol, or dark with fury (directed at Heaven, Hell, Earth, or whatever, but never at Aziraphale, he thought with a quiet smugness). He wanted to hold Crowley in his arms, look deep into his eyes, and remind himself that whatever they were going through, they were doing it together.

But those glasses were a barrier between them, felt like an outward sign of that wall Crowley constructed around himself and no matter how much Aziraphale tried, he couldn’t get through.

Their relationship ebbed and flowed and changed over the centuries until they were seeing each other every few years, then months, then weeks. It changed so subtly that Aziraphale didn’t even realize it was happening until it was so far from where it started that he couldn’t imagine how they’d gotten there. They went from strangers to reluctant adversaries to more reluctant collaborators to friends. 

All the while, finding comfort in one another, the only other being on Earth who could understand them completely. That was all the physical side of their relationship was at first; mutual comfort. _Obviously_ , an angel and a demon couldn’t truly love each other, but having someone to share with made their lives on Earth so much more whole.

Each time they took a step towards understanding what it was growing between them, it was brought on - as such changes often were - by alcohol. They first slept together after the flood, drunk on strong wine to numb the pain of what they bore witness to, to drown out the cries of those who were not saved still ringing in their ears. The Arrangement was formed over a bottle of red wine one night outside a monastery in northern Italy, realizing that an enteral stalemate only benefited them both. The friendship was truly bonded when they shared a bottle of Scotch after giving up on turning the hearts of the warring knights in the Middle Ages. 

Each and every time they were alone, Aziraphale made Crowley take off those glasses in the hopes that he would let Aziraphale see him as he truly was. And each of those moments when their relationship became more than it had been before, when Aziraphale wanted to look into the soul of the one he’d chosen to spend eternity with, Crowley averted his eyes once more, closing them with a gasp of pleasure or looking away and pressing his face to a pillow or Aziraphale’s neck. Each time, they’d come out of the interaction more than they had been going in, and yet, each time, Aziriphale left just a little disappointed. 

Neither knew when they started to feel anything for the other besides friendship, but they knew it had been building since long before they were prepared to admit it. Even when they were prepared to admit it to one another, it took longer to come to terms with the reality of loving someone from the other side. Love could never be a sin, but that didn’t mean the other angels and demons would see it the same way.

Aziraphale couldn’t pinpoint the one night in particular when he realized that everything he was and everything he ever would be - his heart, body, and mind - belonged to the demon who had been by his side since the beginning of time. But he knew the night he was truly ready to admit it. 

A few hours after they secured their freedom from Heaven and Hell when they dined at the Ritz and drank at the bookshop, something that night snapped inside him. They almost lost each other that day to their own sides and Aziraphale wasn’t willing to live another day without letting Crowley know how he felt, in the clearest way he knew how. Words often failed them both but he knew more than one way to communicate, including something that Crowley had denied him for millennia. 

The wine made him brave and Aziraphale stood, offering his hand to Crowley. “Come to bed with me, my dear.” A normal request for those nights they found comfort in one another but instead of pulling Crowley immediately into a kiss, Aziraphale simply laced their fingers together and led the way to the seldom-used bedroom on the second floor. 

Once inside, he turned to Crowley and only then did he kiss him, soft and gentle, speaking of all the fear and hope and longing that had been building up in him for a week. For eleven years. For... ever. His hands deftly removed Crowley’s clothing, dropping them to the floor. (They were perfectly folded when they hit the ground. He had standards.) 

Once he had Crowley undressed, Aziraphale stepped back to admire the long lines of the one he loved, taking his glasses from his face and miracling them somewhere else. Aziraphale didn’t know where and he didn’t care. Crowley wouldn’t need them again that night if the angel had anything to say about it. “There you are,” he smiled even as Crowley averted his eyes like always. Aziraphale gave Crowley a gentle push to fall back onto the bed and stood off to the side, looking over him.

A flush already covered Crowley’s face, neck, and chest, and part of Aziraphale simply wanted to take what was being offered to him. He knew Crowley wouldn’t complain, would probably expect as much from their previous encounters, but there was more than a need for release and comfort in his actions that night. Aziraphale knew how he felt about Crowley and he wanted the demon to know it too. 

“Angel,” Crowley sounded wrecked already and Aziraphale hadn’t really touched him yet. “At least let me look at you.” Aziraphale hadn’t lost one item of clothing yet, and he had no intention to. Tonight wasn’t about him. It was about making sure Crowley knew how much he loved him, how much he trusted him, how much he needed him in his life.

In response to Crowley’s request, Aziraphale shook his head. Obviously frustrated, Crowley went to snap his own fingers but Aziraphale caught Crowley’s hand in his own. “Please, my dear one, let me do this my way.” He knew it was different than anything they’d ever done. He knew Crowley was probably confused and worried and frustrated but right now, Aziraphale didn’t feel like explaining. “Trust me.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide, focusing on Aziraphale’s bow tie instead of his face, and he nodded. A little more than a day before, they’d helped save the world so that they could continue to enjoy it together. If there was anything true in the world, it was that they trusted each other. Aziraphale moved so he could sit on the bed next to his lover, taking in the way he looked; trembling, breathless, needy, and untouched. 

Bringing Crowley’s hand to his lips, Aziraphale whispered, “Crowley, look at me.” He watched the demon war with himself before finally, _finally_ , bringing his eyes up to meet Aziraphale’s loving gaze with nothing between them for the first time in two thousand years. “I know I am not the easiest person to be around.” He kissed each knuckle, each fingertip, his eyes staying locked on Crowley’s. “I get excited about books and forget about reservations or plans. I get into more trouble than I’m probably worth because I place my hope and trust in the wrong places. I ignore what is right in front of me for what I’ve been told I’m supposed to want. But I won’t ignore it any longer. I know what true heaven is now, and it has nothing to do with upstairs.” 

As he spoke, Crowley’s pupils got larger, and he gaped just a little more. Aziraphale leaned over, kissing his forehead, one eyelid and then the other. He sat up and traced his fingers down Crowley’s cheek and chin, tracing over his nose and lips. Crowley kissed his fingertips as Aziraphale’s fingers met his lips. “Angel,” he whispered, gently reverent but Aziraphale could see the need in the way he held himself still, in the hardness of every part of his body but his eyes which were soft and pleading.

Aziraphale met his look with one of his own, pouring everything he felt for the love of his eternal life into the warm glow of his own eyes. 

“Shh, I have you.” And Aziraphale did. As Crowley said, they were on their own side and nothing would pull them apart again. Aziraphale made his choice and that choice now lay trusting and perfect in front of him. 

He placed a soft kiss to Crowley’s lips before shifting so he could kiss down his lover’s body. Where Aziraphale was soft and round, Crowley was hard and lean. They were a study in contrasts, an angel and a demon, soft and hard, light and dark, ethereal blue and infernal gold. There was a lovely human saying that opposites attract and if there was ever an example of two opposites who found what they needed in each other, it was the two of them. 

As he kissed inch after inch of skin, Aziraphale traced a line up Crowley’s length, teasing him with soft light touches meant to titillate but nothing more. Crowley arched as he sought more but Aziraphale, calm yet firm, pushed his hips back down to the mattress. “In good time, my dearest, as long as you keep looking at me.”

Keeping their eyes locked, Aziraphale took Crowley in his mouth, letting the hardness of him slide over his tongue. They didn’t do this often, generally too eager to come together that they didn’t consider this until they were already spent and sleepy in each other’s arms. But now, Aziraphale knelt between his legs in supplication, seeking, pleading, _praying_ to know that what he felt for Crowley would be returned to him. He bestowed blessing and benediction upon the one he loved with tongue and lips, gentle hands and warm eyes.

As he pleasured the one he loved with hands and lips, Aziraphale thought of all the things he wished to say.

_I love you._

_I need you._

_I’ll never send you away again._

_Please assure me you feel the same._

_Forever._

Aziraphale telegraphed the words with touches and kisses but mostly through the intensity with which he stared into Crowley’s eyes. Eyes which grew dark and round in the dim light of the room, filled with affection and surprise, the epitome of beauty if anyone were to ask Aziraphale. 

He made it his goal in life to make that expression appear on the demon’s face as often as possible for the rest of eternity.

Hollowing his cheeks, Aziraphale took him deeper, looking up at Crowley through his lashes to not break the contact between them. When it grew to be too much for his lover, Crowley looked away as he usually did when they were together. Aziraphale pulled off and held Crowley down with strong yet gentle hands. “Look at me, Crowley. Otherwise, I’m going to stop.”

Crowley gave a terse nod and Aziraphale went back to what he was doing, letting the head of Crowley’s cock slide between his lips, tasting the essence of his lover on his tongue. Aziraphale could do this for hours, simply wringing the pleasure from him in slow, smooth motions that would never grant release, just a continuous increase of passion. His hands slid up and down Crowley’s thighs and hips, holding and caressing and relishing the thought that they could have this now whenever they wanted. That it meant more now than they’d ever let it mean before. 

He could see Crowley struggling to keep his eyes on Aziraphale’s, see him fighting the urge to close them or look away. Aziraphale was affected as well. To gaze into someone else’s eyes for so long, with so much emotion crackling between them, it felt as if he’d broken open his chest and handed his heart to his lover on a silver platter. He felt exposed and seen in a way he never had before. 

But Aziraphale basked in it, took gratification from knowing that there were no secrets between them, that he was baring his soul to the one he loved with no qualms and no hesitation. 

“Angel!” Crowley cried after one strong pull of Azirphale’s lips. His hand wrapped around Aziraphale’s arm, tugging on him to sit up. “Please,” he begged, eyes barely staying open, only just managing it. 

Reaching up to brush sweat-soaked hair off his lover’s forehead, Aziraphale smiled. “Please what, my love?”

Crowley trembled at the pet name and leaned his face into Aziraphale’s hand. “Please...please make me yours. I want to be yours.” His eyes had fluttered closed and Aziraphale allowed it for a moment, so he could appreciate just how beautiful Crowley was like this. Hair damp with sweat, pale skin flushed with heat, surrendering himself completely, contrary to his demonic nature. It was trust that allowed him to do that, love that had been built for millennia between the two of them. Aziraphale was humbled by the sheer enormity of the responsibility and vowed to be worthy of it. 

His original plan had been to take care of Crowley, to give him everything he needed and while that hadn’t included taking the demon for his own, he couldn’t ignore the request so sweetly given. 

With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale removed all of his clothes as well, bending to kiss his lover. “Spread your legs for me, love.” A quick - but far from frivolous - miracle slicked Aziraphale’s fingers and he took great care in opening his lover with tender touches and softly-spoken words. Only when he lined himself up, bracing himself with hands above Crowley’s shoulders, did Aziraphale say, voice firm and unyielding, “Open your eyes, Crowley. Look at me.” Crowley shook his head and Aziraphale cupped his cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone. “If you are mine, then I want to see you. All of you. Please, my love. For me.”

His eyes opened, meeting Aziraphale’s, who was surprised to see them shining with unfallen tears. Keeping their eyes locked, Aziraphale pushed into Crowley’s willing body and they came together as one. A stray tear slipped from Crowley’s eyes and Aziraphale swept it away with his thumb. He felt it too, the sense of love between them so overwhelming that they could probably feel it all the way in Heaven and Hell, and couldn’t blame Crowley for the tears. It was very likely the last time his lover felt that much love was back before he’d fallen. 

But Aziraphale would make sure he was surrounded with it every day for as long as the sun still burned in the sky and the earth still turned. 

Slowly, Aziraphale started to move, hips shifting to take him deeper into Crowley, all the while, letting his mouth say what his body already had. “You are mine, my darling boy. You are mine as I am yours. From this day until the end of time, we are one.” 

Crowley surged up to kiss him, hands gripping Aziraphale’s shoulders so tight it would have bruised if he were human. With a little shifting, Aziraphale had Crowley in his lap, still thrusting up into him but holding him even closer than before. “I love you, Crowley, Serpent of Eden. I always have, even if it took a while to realize it.”

“I love you,” Crowley whispered against his lips, voice broken and as desperate as the hold he had on Aziraphale. “I love you. Oh, Go- Sa- _Angel_ , I love you, Aziraphale.” He pulled back just enough to look in Aziraphale’s eyes as they continued to move. 

Words were lost to them, the two of them moving as one, eyes locked and unblinking. When Crowley came, his back arched, supported by Aziraphale’s hands and manifested his wings while he spent himself on their stomachs. His body milked Aziraphale’s release from him and he too, manifested his wings as he came. 

They stayed connected like that for as long as they could and neither knew if minutes, hours, or even days had passed since they’d entered this room. It didn’t matter. They had nowhere to be and nothing to do but be together. 

Eventually, Aziraphale slipped from Crowley’s body and the two of them lay on the bed, limbs tangled and wings resting on them both like large, feathered blankets. The black and white feathers seemed to mix until meeting in a shade of grey like storm clouds on a hot summer afternoon.

“May I ask something of you, my dear?” 

Crowley, who’d been drifting off to sleep, comforted by the warmth of the angel next to him, gave him a slow nod. “Anything, angel. You know that.”

Combing his hand through Crowley’s hair, Aziraphale closed the distance between him to kiss them softly. “No more hiding. When it’s just us, please don’t wear your glasses. You’re beautiful and I’ve missed your eyes so much.”

The golden color of Crowley’s eyes seemed to melt into something warmer, fonder when he smiled and nodded. “No more hiding,” he promised. They sealed it with a kiss before falling asleep in each other’s arms, truly known by another for the first time in forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr at [astudyinfic](http://astudyinfic.tumblr.com) or twitter at [astudyinfic](http://twitter.com/astudyinfic).


End file.
